Page 84 of Apparently, I’m A B!tch

Chapter43

Tristan

Thursday afternoon

I satin Nikki’s boardroom, tugging on the neckline of my shirt as the sun bounced through the glass walls. This waiting was unbearable.

I ran my hands through my hair and tried to sit, gripping the leather armrests until my knuckles turned white.

What would Nikki say when she saw me in here? What would she do?

How would she look at me?

I had her in my arms, I had her, until Rochelle showed up. The look on Nikki’s face, that wide-eyed trembling stare… that was the last look she gave me. I hated being the person who made her feel like that, made her look like that.

Uncle Henry was right. I had to do something. I would fix all of it, all at once.

If Nikki wasn’t willing to see me at Extra Shot, if she wasn’t willing to hear me out over the phone, then I didn’t have much of a choice.

The door to the boardroom opened, and Nikki walked in with Kelly behind her. She was dressed in a tight pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse, and her clothes fit her body in a way that made me forget to breathe.

While Kelly had mirth dancing behind her eyes, when I looked at Nikki, all I saw was tension. She turned to Kelly and said, “I’d like to speak with Mister Kashif alone, if that’s okay, Kel.”

“Oh. Sure, boss. No problem.” Kelly shot me a teasing smile and bounced out of the room, winking as she shut the door behind her.

When I first walked in here this morning, Nikki’s office door was shut tight. Since the first part of my plan was getting Kelly on my side, I came in with coffees and pastries for Nikki’s colleagues. Kelly approached me with coldness, and it took some time, but she softened once I gave her my side of the story. As a woman who was genuinely hurt by a man using her, Kelly knew the situation better than any of us, and agreed that Rochelle’s actions had been harassment.

The next step was this: being alone in a room with Nikki again, wrangling the chance to be heard by her.

Nikki let out a breath, shut her eyes tight, and pulled out a leather chair. She collapsed into it, leaving the air between us empty.

“You don’t need a lawyer to file a restraining order, Tristan.” The edge to her voice told me that though she read my report, she was still upset with me.

“I know.”

I forced myself to stay seated. Nikki and I needed to talk. I craved the sound of her, the feel of her. Her gasp, her moans, the way her whole body clenched as I thrust myself into her was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever felt. I had to ignore all that. The last thing I should’ve been thinking about was pulling her into my arms and pinning her against the boardroom table.

I bit my lip, taking no notice of the thrum of my blood rushing south as her eyes flew open.

“Why are you doing this, Tristan? Rochelle’s clinging to you, and it isn’t fun for you anymore?”

The derision in her voice was obvious. They really didn’t call her The Cutter for nothing.

“Nikki, I was never with her.” She rolled her eyes but I kept speaking. “I kept refusing her, and she wasn’t happy about that.”

Nikki snorted. “I’ll bet.”

“Rochelle has a lot of sway in the art community. So, when I upset her as much as I did, she blacklisted me. I don’t think there’s a gallery in Soho that’ll take my work now.” I scratched my jaw as Nikki’s face fell. “She also had Kenny fire me from the ArtBox–”

“She… really?” Nikki leaned across the boardroom table; her interest piqued.

This was it. I had her attention. “I didn’t sleep with her, and I’ve never kissed her. Whether or not you believe me is up to you, but I’ve had enough. I’m not going to take her trying to manipulate me into sex.”

The color in her cheeks deepened, her lips pursed tighter, but her voice came out level as she asked, “And what did you do when she threatened you with all this?”

“I gave up.”

“What do you mean?”